


out of a million futures, he chooses love

by SofaKills



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Shovel Talk, Trans Charon, Trans Male Character, a belated one but a shovel talk of some sort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29610699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SofaKills/pseuds/SofaKills
Summary: A moment shared between two business associates after festivity has returned to mundanity leads to more heated territory, and in time, they shall make a choice to change their future together for something new.
Relationships: Charon & Hypnos (Hades Video Game), Charon & Nyx (Hades Video Game), Charon & Thanatos (Hades Video Game), Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. beginnings

For the first time in eons, Charon feels the weight of lingering exhaustion settle as he prepares to row up the Styx to return to his alcove. 

It's been a busy period as of late, the number of shades awaiting passage on his dock never dwindling. Of course, he takes the obols they offer and ferry them down to the House until the dock stands empty of all who can pay, basking in the brief time he shares with Hermes. 

The Olympian is content to linger for as long as he can manage, but that isn't much during these busy times. This shortage makes their brief meetings all the more precious, of course, but Charon can't deny that he misses the other god. There's something soothing about speaking to someone who understands the nature of his task, and what reasons he had for meddling so thoroughly in the House's affairs. 

The feast happened not too long ago, though with the reconciliation came unintended consequences. Now, suddenly, the mortals have to adjust to having proper seasons again, and all of the ails and possible ways of dying that come with it. 

It's going to be a while until things settle down again, but that much is to be expected. When he set out to assist Zagreus in his escape, this sort of consequence was more or less a part of his plans. 

But even so, as he guides his skiff through the cloudy waters of Lethe, Charon feels the unmistakable strain put a damper on that lingering sense of victory. Regardless of how well everything turned out, there's no time to rest. And yet, he still yearns for a moment of peace. Though that wish may just be one for a moment to share with his fellow psychopomp. 

It is sure to come, as he trusts that the Fates will weave a lull in their tapestry soon enough. But then, they did always enjoy their work, so that day may be eons away. 

While these thoughts occupy him, he deftly maneuvers his boat back into the grasping waters of the Styx. The temple is in sight, although the dock is still a ways away, so he contents himself with listening to the river's soothing murmurs. 

Like Lethe and Phlegethon have, Styx tries to soothe away some of his exhaustion. It does help some, as he lets her current carry the boat until he reaches the docks, but he decides against asking for more than that. 

And, as he ties the skiff down for the ease of the shades, he picks up on the sound of quick wingbeats. Hermes' arrival is unmistakable, so Charon doesn't fret over it as he finishes the knot and then straightens up. 

"Been a while since last, hasn't it?" Hermes asks, despite the blatant non-truth in such a question. It hasn't been more than a day in the realms above the Underworld, but that stretch of time seems somehow more than it is, so Charon doesn't voice the expected response. Instead, he gives a questioning groan, waiting for the usual slew of stories from his fellow psychopomp to fill the silence while he takes the fee from each shade that wishes to board his vessel for their last journey. 

The weight and feel of the obols is a comfort, but the sound of Hermes' voice is one he can't ignore either. The greater contents of the tales today seem to be limited to how Olympus' gods are adjusting to the coming of spring and how that in turn has shifted the routines that they've fallen into over the course of such a long winter. 

It's an odd thing to imagine, but not all gods have work that is as constant as that in the Underworld, so it makes an awful lot of sense that they'd have to adjust. Hermes isn't among them, at least not in the sense that his duties have taken swing towards one direction or another. No, he's just as busy as always, but that isn't stopping him from lingering like this. 

Charon gives him a fond look as the last of the shades step into the skiff, taking their seats with murmurs and fearful glances to the deep crimson waters of the Styx. And, on a small whim, he reaches out to tug Hermes closer by the scarf, giving him the best approximation of a kiss as he can manage, smoke lazily curling around the god's face before he pulls back. 

Hermes gladly accepts the affection, cupping Charon's face as he pulls away. 

"I'd normally be a bit mad that you interrupted me, but I'll take this as a sign of future enthusiasm. Let's give ourselves some much needed compensation once this rush is over, and I'll take my sweet time with you boss. Doesn't that sound nice?" Hermes asks, a mischievous grin splitting his face even as embers of desire so clearly come through in his gaze. 

Charon nods softly, groaning in the affirmative as he places one hand over Hermes', letting the touch linger for just a moment too long before pulling it away. 

It's an unspoken promise between them, hovering in the lull of impatience as they part to continue their shared work. 

In time, the influx of shades tapers off into something more manageable, finally allowing them some time to rest. Hermes choosing to linger throughout the last trip down to the House is as telling of a sign as any words could be, and so Charon toys just a little bit with his patience by simply going about it as he usually would. No pleading glances thrown his way will make the ferryman move any faster, even if Styx takes pity on the messenger god and ushers the boat through her currents with more force than usual. 

The shades disembark once it comes to a stop by the House, and Charon considers reaching to count the day's obols before he meets Hermes' gaze. The ill-hidden hunger in it tells him to refrain, so he lets a gentle hand trail under his chin, tilting his head up before leaning in for a gentle kiss. A preamble to whatever Hermes has in mind for them, but one Charon would be remiss to forget. 

Of course, the eager kiss that's returned to him is one he gladly accepts, nipping oh-so carefully at the god's lower lip before he pulls him close in earnest, drawing them both directly to his little home in Erebus. 

The Styx seems to be laughing goodheartedly as they step over the threshold, and Charon joins her for a moment as he lets Hermes pull him towards the only piece of furniture he's invested a sizeable part of his earnings into: The bed. 

Some of the finery draped over it are gifts, some of it purchased, but all of it theirs to use. And use it they do, as Hermes playfully shoves Charon down on it before plucking his hat from his head. 

"You have too much fun making me wait, love." Hermes murmurs, unclasping Charon's cloak with practiced, nimble hands. Still, he sits back on his heels while the cloak is summarily discarded on the floor alongside the hat, and bears with Charon returning the favor, stripping him of satchel and shoes alike. They join the pile of growing cloth on the floor, and Hermes seizes his chance to plant a bruising kiss in the junction between neck and shoulder. 

The shuddering groan that comes as a response only makes it sweeter, even if it is followed by an impatient tug to his scarf. Still, he lingers for a moment longer, nipping at a spot near Charon's clavicle before finally pulling back to summarily take off his scarf and laurel, letting them drop onto the pile as well. 

Charon watches him do so in unmistakable interest, plumes of smoke edging towards a rosy tint before he moves to pull the smaller god close enough to give him a few marks of his own. Tempting as it is to give him a bite where it will clearly be seen, he settles for a less conspicuous place as he slips Hermes' chiton off his shoulders. He feels the way the god's breath hitches under the attention, but keeps on task as he feels out the sashes keeping the garment in place. 

Unraveling them takes a bit of patience, but judging by how Hermes hasn't taken it into his own hands, he doesn't really mind the wait as much as he pretends to. 

Still, once the sashes are lying scattered on the pile, Hermes slips his chiton off without playing along much with Charon's whims, and grins before hiking his lover's robes up to reveal glorious flesh and faintly shining bone. 

Charon breaks the mood a little by chuckling at his beloved's expression, but dutifully strips. It might be fun to indulge him with the secrecy for a little longer, but that's not really what they're here for. 

With the last veneer of decency all but removed, the ferryman makes no show of hiding where his gaze strays as he looks upon his shining bird, and reaches to tap him on the chest. A signal, one that Hermes knows well from all of their prior times shared just like this. 

"Alright, don't mind me taking advantage of your kindness." Hermes says, and moves to lie back on the fine silks scattered over the bed. Charon looms over him, leaning down far enough to curtain their faces with his hair. 

Meeting in a kiss is easy for them like this, Hermes breathing in the ever-billowing smoke that pours from Charon's mouth in a show of love and unspoken greed. Still, it's an indulgent display the ferryman is all too happy to let continue as he reaches for the bottle of oil. 

It's not entirely necessary, with the liquid heat building in his core and threatening to drip down his thighs under the undivided attentions of his love. Hermes' hands are wandering now, faintly teasing up and down but never close enough to truly be felt. But all the same, he uncorks the bottle and pours some into his hand, warming it up before he finally puts a hand on Hermes' cock. 

The choked moan that leaves the god's mouth at that is something Charon will treasure, even as he straightens up to focus on the task at hand. He feels Hermes' hands find an anchoring hold on his hips, waiting and wanting just as much as the god they're attached to. Despite the impatience hiding in the gesture, Charon takes his time in opening himself up, perhaps making more of a show of it than it needs to be. But how could he not preen a little in front of his love, when it's been so long since they last had time for anything like this? 

Besides, judging by the way Hermes' pupils are blown wide watching Charon scissor himself, he doesn't mind the show in the slightest. Still, it ends soon enough, and Charon leans in for another kiss before taking his slick hand to guide himself onto Hermes' cock. 

It's a slow, easy slide home, and he lets out a deep sigh in something akin to contentment, smoke pooling around them in a veritable cloud. He feels Hermes' heartbeat pulse rabbit-fast under his hands, and it's all too easy to see the effect even this has on him. This is only the beginning, however, as Charon starts to move, gently rolling his hips before riding the god in earnest. It's easy to fall into a rhythm, languid but not too slow as the silence fills with the sound of flesh meeting flesh alongside ill-hidden moans and shuddered phrases that only barely resemble words. 

That is, until Hermes moves to sit up, forcing Charon to shift just so to accomodate it before he meets him in a thrust that more clearly conveys his want than any broken praise ever could. Charon groans far down in his chest, pink-tinted smoke deepening in shade as it drifts from his mouth, his eyes, even his nose. He clenches around him, hoping to let the god take as much as he pleases. It's almost dizzying, really, this want that seems to consume them both while they chase pleasure at each other's hands. 

Still, when Charon feels Hermes' hand shift from its hold on his hip, he knows that he'll be looked after first. It's easy to accept, almost as easy as it is to give, his senses shrinking down to the sole sensations of Hermes' cock and his clever fingers toying with his clit until he can do no more but become undone, throwing his head back in offering to the bright existence that's so livened up his monotonous way of life. 

Hermes gladly takes the offering, kissing and biting Charon's neck as he keeps thrusting, chasing his own completion tirelessly until he finally reaches it, giving one final moan before he slumps back, dragging his beloved down with him into a pile of heavy, heated limbs. 

"... Hope you didn't mind my impatience too much there." Hermes murmurs softly, voice slightly rough as he reaches to brush his fingers through Charon's hair. 

Charon shakes his head softly, content to lean into the gentle touch. There's very little Hermes could do that he minds, really. Besides, he'd never ask him to hold back. It just isn't in either of their natures to play that kind of game. 

Still, once the haze of post-orgasm bliss wears off, Charon extricates himself from Hermes with a mildly apologetic kiss before starting on the task of cleaning them both up, a task punctuated with the occasional kiss. There's no heat in them, but just a simple want to stay close, to linger for a little while longer. 

When there's no longer any trace of oil or spend on either of them, Charon is all too content to curl up together with Hermes, idly rubbing circles onto bare skin as they simply lie together. Briefly, they lock eyes, and he sees that there's something on Hermes' mind. He groans questioningly, wondering what could be occupying his thoughts so soon. 

Hermes blinks at that, and smiles fondly as he reaches to stroke Charon's cheek. 

"I was just thinking about what you might say, love." he says, pausing for a moment as he sees Charon's expression change to something resembling confusion. "Oh, it's nothing bad, just a little something I've been thinking over for a while. We're as close as can be, both as business associates and this... I was wondering what you'd say about maybe having a child together." 

It's not spoken with the vibrance of Hermes' usual stories and questions, but instead a hushed sort of hope, a gentle pondering about a possible future in the eternity ahead of them. 

Charon finds himself almost taken aback by it, though he doesn't immediately respond. Instead, he considers it with as much thought as he does everything else, and then gives Hermes a gentle kiss on the forehead before groaning a soft affirmation. To share a future like that doesn't sound bad at all, and he knows full well that Hermes means to share it wholly and completely, in whatever capacity he can manage. 

"I- Really? You're sure?" Hermes asks, blinking. 

Charon only repeats the same sound, meeting his gaze head-on to make his intent as clear as possible. Honestly, the surprise on Hermes' face is adorable, but he'd much rather it melt away into something fonder. 

And it does, as Hermes grins before kissing him deeply, practically buzzing with joy for it. Charon returns the gesture, content to bask in his affection for as long as he'll give it. For the moment, nothing else seems to matter beyond the faint sound of Styx's gentle lapping against the stone outside, and he couldn't be more contented if he tried. 

Truly, this was well worth the wait.


	2. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news reach the House, though not in a very direct fashion.

For some time, little of note changes in the Underworld, and Charon is quite glad for the equilibrium holding its ground. It may not be particularly exciting, but he's grateful for the monotony as it gives him more time to spend with Hermes, and to get used to the slow changes in his body. 

Graciously enough, or perhaps because of the Fates' blessing them with nothing too overwhelming, the child seems to be growing fine. It's too early to tell anything else, though Charon ponders over the possibilities while he makes another trip down to the House with a load of shades. 

For now, the journeys up and down the rivers aren't particularly taxing, even with the occasional daze he finds himself in, lulled by a faint exhaustion he can't place and the sound of the rivers themselves. Still, he performs his task without fail, ever punctual and brief in his visits. 

If there's one thing he'll be thankful for besides an honest lack of discomforting symptoms like those Hermes have described, it's the fact that his robes quite easily hide any sign of the slight swell to his stomach. It's practically an open secret that he and Hermes are involved by now, but Charon would rather not draw the entirety of the House's attention if he can avoid it. Hence, the secrecy, at least until he can call upon his closest family and share the happy news with them. 

However, as he pushes the skiff to a stop by the dock where the shades are meant to go, the rather distinct sound of flaming feet crossing stone interrupts his thoughts. Turning his head, Charon spots the ever-familiar form of Prince Zagreus quickly heading past the throng of shades, holding a scroll of some sort in hand. He's had the foresight of rolling it up, but that only betrays its rather cumbersome length. Then, there's the fact that Charon can sense the touch of his sisters more directly on the parchment. How curious. 

What could the prince want with such a relic? 

The answer to that question rears its head almost as soon as the prince reaches the end of the dock, unraveling the binding keeping the scroll from falling open. 

"I think there's a prophecy on here that might very well interest you, Charon." Zagreus says, shifting his grip on the parchment to point to a specific entry, unmistakably written in the hand of one of the Fates. 

/The son of the god of the dead shall someday meet his niece, born of both Olympus and the Underworld./ 

Charon briefly pictures his sisters tittering amongst themselves in their chosen home, knowing that this is both a jest and a genuine show of support from them. What better way to share with the rest of the family, and without becoming the center of attention to boot. He'll have to send along a thank-you gift. 

Still, he groans in a clear questioning tone as he points to the parchment, meeting Zagreus' two-toned gaze in played up curiousity. He wants to see the prince's gears turn, see if he's realized the obvious truth. 

"Well, I spoke with Hypnos about it, and he's not looking to have children any time soon. I know that these things aren't guaranteed to come to pass at any specific time, but it's a new addition, and those don't come by very often." the prince explains, rolling up the scroll as he speaks. 

He's only halfway through it when Charon taps a ringed finger on it, catching his eye almost instantly. Then, he points towards himself, not wanting to bother with the intricacies of speech for the moment. It'll get his point across, and that's all that this conversation really needs. 

As expected, Zagreus doesn't take long to grasp his meaning, though it's obvious that the prince is at least a little shocked by such news. That shock doesn't stop Charon from stepping back into his boat, nor does it stop him from tossing the Loyalty Card to him for his troubles. 

"Er- Is this a bribe for my silence?" Zagreus asks, plucking the card off of the stone as Charon gives off a rattling wheeze in amusement. The ferryman shakes his head, and then gestures towards the House as he groans out his answer. 

"Oh, compensation for my trouble? You didn't need to, really. I'm sure that the rumor's going around the entire House by now." the prince replies, looking just a little sheepish. "Still, if this is endorsment to confirm the obvious, I've got no choice. Hope all the rivers treat you kindly on the way back." 

And with that, Zagreus heads back into the house, rolling up the list of prophecies as he goes. Charon puts his oar to the water, listening to the amused murmurings from Styx as he makes to return to Erebus. There are three gifts he must consider, to thank the Fates for sparing him. It may not be stricly necessary, but he has no reason to not treat them kindly after everything that's transpired. 

Docking by the usual spot in Erebus takes little more than muscle memory, so when he hears the familiar sound of wingbeats in the air, he turns just in time to see Hermes fly out of what is by now their shared abode. He makes a point to meet him halfway, happily indulging in the Olympian's kiss before pulling back enough to let him speak. 

"So how was the House faring? Same as always?" Hermes asks, content to hover right on the edge of too close and perfectly near. 

Charon's amusement must show somehow through means other than words, though he still groans in answer, relaying that the operations of the House were functioning as always, while the gods seemed distracted by something entirely separate from their work. 

"And what might that distraction be, hm? Does it have something to do with your good mood, boss?" Hermes asks in turn, smirking just so as he needles his dear associate just a little for the answer. 

Charon nods, smoke trailing a gentle pillar from under the brim of his hat as he heads past Hermes. There are still gifts to prepare, and he might as well give the full story while they're not out in the open. 

And give it he does, while counting the day's earnings. Hermes' gentle, bright laughter fills the spaces between Charon's groans, easily realizing the comedy of the most estranged party of the Underworld revealing the news to the House in the least direct way possible. 

"Gods, your sisters truly do have a sense of humor." Hermes says, wiping away a tear of mirth as he sits down next to him. "So, how long do you think it'll take before your brothers come to find you?" 

Charon thinks it over as he stacks obols in neat, even towers on the table, and then shrugs before giving his answer. It's punctuated by a fond plume of smoke, making no attempt to hide the earnest affection the ferryman holds for his family. They may be separated by their roles in and outside of the House, but there's still bonds to be found between them. Bonds he'd much rather keep than break. 

"Depends, you say? You sure have a way of leaving me in suspense." Hermes says, contentedly watching as Charon continues to count the obols with the same rhythmic motions as always. "Still, I don't recall Thanatos being the sort to beat around the bush, so I'd reckon he'll show up first." 

Charon offers a mildly doubtful groan to that, idly flipping one of the obols over before putting it among the rest. While he does so, the familiar toll of a bell signals the arrival of Thanatos. 

"Guess I was right, or might this be another prank by the Fates?" Hermes asks, taking a perch on the side of the table that isn't inevitably going to be overrun by obols.

A moment later, the god of death floats into the doorway, eyes trained on the two of them. Charon doesn't immediately react, instead greeting his brother in the same manner he always does. Hermes, however, knows full well that Thanatos has some choice words for him in particular, and so he just offers a jaunty wave. 

"... I heard from Zagreus, about what's going on." Thanatos says, somehow holding himself even more stiffly than usual. "First, I'd like to congratulate you both. Second, I've an invitation from the House to give. Queen Persephone seems to want to speak with the two of you." 

Charon looks up from the obols at that, staring at his brother in what can be described as clear interest before letting out a questioning groan. 

"She leaves the time and place to be decided by you, so long as it happens sooner rather than later." Thanatos answers, blinking. "Now, Hermes. I trust you understand what will happen if you try to abandon your new role in any capacity." There's an implicit threat in those words, and for a second, the scythe that always accompanies Thanatos gleams in the candlelight, its edge seeming... Sharper, somehow. 

Charon sighs at that, making no attempt to hide his dismay over the threat. It's hardly necessary, but there's no stopping his family from showing just how far they're willing to go, not now. 

"Well, it'd be a feat and a half if I didn't, especially with how thoroughly you're threatening me." Hermes replies, unfazed by the threat in Death's eyes. "But you won't have to act on it, so there's no need to have your mother or brother threaten me too. I'm not going to be anything less than what Charon and our child needs, and that's a promise I'm willing to swear on the Styx herself." 

That, it seems, gets through to Thanatos, who glances towards the crimson waters behind him before sighing softly. 

"My apologies, but I wanted to make sure of your resolve. You are not one to break promises made without deception, regardless of the Styx's binding force." Thanatos says, his posture relaxing slightly. "Since I've said my piece, I'll leave you now." 

And with that, he disappears in a flash of green light, leaving the two alone. 

Charon sighs again in the silence, smoke dense enough to linger before it rises as always does, and starts on the task of putting the obols back into their sack. 

"Family, huh?" Hermes offers in levity, grinning just a bit as he relaxes. Sure, he wasn't exactly worried about having to face the unspoken consequence of shirking his duties as a partner and parent, but it's still not easy to bear the full brunt of Death's most hardened gaze. "Can't imagine what Hypnos and Nyx might pull on me if that's how the first hurdle is." 

Charon offers some sympathy to this, reaching out to take Hermes' hand in his own, gently squeezing in an unspoken apology. 

"Oh no, don't worry about it! I was expecting this much to happen, you know. Still, I don't think my own family will do anything quite like this once they hear the news." Hermes says, honestly finding the fact that most of the other Olympians don't like to venture down to the Underworld willy-nilly to be quite reassuring. "At the very least, I'll bear the brunt of that mess whenever it rears its head." 

Charon tilts his head, wondering just what Hermes is imagining. Of course, the Olympians are prone to being overwhelming in their own disparate ways, but hearing him speak of them like that is worrisome. He can't help but voice that worry, squeezing Hermes' hand again as he does. 

"I'll be just fine, Charon. It's not the first time I've dropped that kind of news on them, and most of them won't even bat an eye. Hera might have some words for me, but I'm sure she'll change her tune eventually." Hermes says, getting off the table for the moment. "In fact, the only thing that might surprise them is that you're involved." 

Charon scoffs a little at that, but relents as there's no point to worrying about something he can't exactly intervene in. Journeying all the way up to Olympus is fated to end in far more discomfort than it's worth, and he knows that the opulence of it would render him blind before anything else. Not to mention, most of the Olympians don't exactly think of him fondly, if they consider him anything more than what his role and his appearance implies. 

"Whatever happens, it's going to stay on the mountain, and I'll come right back with a haul of shades and contraband like always." Hermes continues, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Charon's cheek. "Now, I'd better go and throw the news in their laps before dear coz can let it on through those boons." 

Charon gives him a faintly amused look at that, groaning out a question that makes Hermes chuckle. 

"No, I'm not trying to avoid the wrath of your other brother and your all-powerful mother, what do you take me for?" he says, idly flicking the brim of Charon's hat as he speaks. "It won't be for long, I promise." 

Charon nods, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting him go. He trusts that Hermes will keep that promise, and so there's little reason to worry overmuch. It helps that he hears the soft sound of Hypnos phasing into existence shortly after Hermes' wingbeats have disappeared entirely, and the god of Sleep floats inside with little fanfare save for a beaming grin. 

"So was the prophecy thing planned, or just the Fates doing you a favor?" Hypnos asks, seeming far less tense than Thanatos had been. But then again, he'd likely had the possibility in mind for a fair bit longer than his twin thanks to Zagreus' confused quest for answers. 

Charon can only offer a shrug in response, rising from his chair to actually gather up the gifts he still needs to send to them. He doesn't know why the Fates decided to pull Zagreus into spreading the news, but he's not about to question their motives. Seeing as none of the three sisters are particularly caring about anything save for their work and each other, none of the gifts are anything particularly frivolous. New ties for long hair, or to keep the endless materials organized. A whetstone, imbued with the divine caliber of something Hephaestus might use, for Atropos' treasured scissors. And finally, materials to care for wooden tools. 

"Not a favor at all then, hm? Did they request all of this from you?" Hypnos asks, curling up a little as he watches Charon place the various items into a parcel. 

Charon shakes his head, and closes the parcel before turning his gaze to Hypnos again, offering only his best guess as to their motivations in answer. They're even more reclusive than he is, and on some level, even busier. The only god they speak to these days is Nyx, and that is only to relay certain prophecies and little else. Still, they remain aware of all of the moving parts of the Underworld despite that. It's no wonder that they'd know precisely what he hoped to avoid, even if their choice to actively prevent that outcome still is surprising. Perhaps they saw a point to letting their reclusive brother be allowed some peace before he's dragged proper into the family politics? 

"Could be, could be! I don't really know what they're like, but they're still family." Hypnos muses, shrugging just a bit before pulling his cloak tighter around himself. "Anyway, where's your winged partner? I've got some threats and tips to dish out." 

Charon sighs out a plume of smoke as he returns to his seat, and then points upward in lieu of giving a more elaborate answer. 

"Ah, so he's heading to inform the squabbly half about all this then. Interesting choice of timing, I must say." Hypnos says, though there's only a playful level of threat in his tone. "I might have to save my threats for when he comes back, but there is one thing I can do before I leave, and that's give you the chance for a great nap." 

Charon tilts his head in mild confusion, not quite seeing where the god of Sleep is coming from with that. 

"You rarely sleep more than you need to, I know, but you're going to have to get into the habit of doing it more eventually. Otherwise you'll be too tired to work properly, and I know you hate that more than anything." Hypnos replies, and summarily plucks Charon's hat off of his head. "So, I'm going to help you with that, and in return I won't threaten your associate too much." 

It's a simple enough offer that there's no need to really think over it for too long, so Charon relents with a sigh. Still, he gestures to the parcel, knowing that it'll have to be taken to the House one way or another. 

"Oh this? I'll take it, no worries. Just make yourself comfortable." Hypnos says, knowing that it's not so heavy that he can't bring it with him on his way back. 

Charon nods, trusting that it'll be done, and unclasps his cloak to drape it over the chair. Sleeping with it on is out of the question since the collar is incredibly stiff, but with it off, that is no longer a problem. He opts to more or less ignore Hypnos watching him while he lies down, getting comfortable on his side as the god of Sleep drifts over to him, certainly pleased with this outcome. 

"Since I don't think you'll like sleeping for too long, I'll just make it a short one. You should wake up just in time for Hermes to get back." Hypnos says, gently placing a hand over Charon's eyes. 

Charon dutifully closes them, having no reason to protest against what amounts to reasonable time for a short nap. The direct influence of sleep is a comforting thing, and this time is no exception as he lets Hypnos' influence sink his consciousness into a deep slumber, free from concerns and everything to do with work. 

When Charon wakes, the parcel is gone, and Hypnos' quilt is draped over him. There is also the sound of voices drifting in from outside, though that in itself is nothing alarming. One clearly belongs to Hermes, and the other is most likely Nyx, though he has no means of knowing when exactly she arrived. Chances are that he'll never know, but that's alright. 

Rather than continue thinking about things that don't matter, he gets up, folding the quilt neatly before taking a moment to put on his cloak and hat. Picking up the bundle of red, he then heads out, thus confirming his prior assumption as the truth. 

Hermes lights up as he sees him, immediately turning his attention away from Nyx, who only looks mildly amused by that fact as she looks over to her son. 

"I trust you will follow Hypnos' advice, my child." she says simply, and takes the folded quilt from him. 

Charon nods, having no reason to draw Hypnos' ire over something like this. As long as he won't have to make a habit of returning the quilt it will be easy to set aside time for sleeping. 

"Good, then I need not remind you." Nyx replies, turning her gaze back to Hermes. "I trust you will put my gift to great use, when the time comes." 

"I'm certainly going to try, Lady Nyx." Hermes says, meeting her eyes with the same confidence as he always has. Still, there's a twitch to his wings, one that gives away the fact that she is a presence to be reckoned with. 

"That is all I ask." Nyx says, making no notice of Hermes' nervous energy. "I will return with further gifts soon, but for now, I shall take my leave." 

Charon has a hunch about what those mentioned gifts might involve, considering the gentle hand Nyx had in raising Zagreus, but he makes no mention of it. It is her way of showing support without meddling as much as Hypnos, and he'll accept it for what it is. 

Still, the Night leaves, and Charon amuses himself with watching the tension drain right out of Hermes' posture before leaning in for a kiss. 

"I forgot to ask, but how did you sleep? You looked mighty comfortable when I got back." Hermes says, smiling softly as he meets Charon's gaze. 

The soft rumble Charon answers with is telling, even as he pulls back to retrieve his oar. There are still some matters he has to take care of, even beyond his duties as the ferryman. The many shops won't stock themselves, for one, and he knows that Zagreus must have gone on another run by now. The Styx tells him as much, relaying from Phlegethon that the prince is tearing through the scorching chambers with little difficulty. 

Hermes, knowing full well what Charon intends to do, watches as the river brings out the boat. It's quite fascinating to see it simply come drifting down the currents, sprung from who-knows-where. 

"You know, I reckon I could take on some of the work of running your shops. Not yet, mind you, but later on." Hermes suggests, flying over to the boat as Charon makes a final inspection of the inventory. Still, the look the ferryman gives him in response is one of blatant curiousity, followed by a tilt of the head. He's listening. 

"Remind me again where your most annoying customers show up?" the god asks, despite already knowing the answer. Charon nonetheless responds, rattling out an irritated 'Elysium' while he pushes off from the side of the platform where Zagreus has faced perhaps a few too many humiliating defeats. 

"Then, I'll be manning that shop whenever you ask me to." Hermes says, grinning just a bit as he finds a perch on one of the empty benches. "I'll bet coz will be quite surprised to see me." 

Charon snorts, but offers no further comment on that particular thought as he maneuvers them away from his little corner of Erebus. Finding where Zag is headed isn't particularly difficult, as Phlegethon helpfully informs him that the prince is just a chamber away from the Hydra. Thus, their course shifts towards the Lethe, and the lush fields of Elysium. 

Setting everything up doesn't take very long at all, especially since Hermes gladly does most of it while Charon checks on the wells' inventory. Most of it seems to have been bought up, but throwing in an assortment of items he won't sell up-front like this takes no more than a few minutes, and by the time he finishes with that, Hermes has placed the last boon in its proper place. 

The current items on offer are a Daedalus Hammer, a Demeter Boon, and a Centaur Heart. All plenty useful at this stage of the Underworld, though Charon suspects that Hermes picked this specific Olympian boon because Demeter is not the type to speak carelessly. All the same, he has no complaints to make, and so he is content to settle in his usual place, simply floating and watching. 

That is, until a walking headache steps into the chamber in the form of Theseus, who immediately stalks over to the counter with a coin pouch in hand. 

"Boatman! I have come to purchase one of your Boons, what do you have on offer?" Theseus asks, at a volume that is quieter than shouting, but also far too loud for proper conversation. It makes Charon grind his teeth just slightly, before he pulls out one of the Boons that Hermes chose not to place on the counter. As is usual for this particular purchase, he's just picking one up at random. 

This time, it's a Dionysus Boon. 

"Excellent, I will take that and a gyro for my brother-in-arms!" Theseus says, digging through his pouch for the correct amount of coin before passing it into Charon's outstretched hand. When the whole sum is offered in full, the boatman hands over the Boon before tucking away the coins for later counting, and then passes a wrapped gyro over to him. 

Seeing Theseus head back to where Asterius is waiting for him is a relief, and once the chamber door shuts behind them, Charon breathes a deep, frustrated sigh. 

Hermes, who had the foresight to duck away lest he cause Theseus to completely lose it, slips out of his hiding place to float over to his partner, now grasping more or less why Charon finds Elysium to be the place with the most annoying shades. 

"Care to bet how he'll react when it's me running the shop?" he offers, rubbing one of Charon's shoulders gently as he speaks. 

Some of the lingering tension seems to dissipate with that, as Charon looks at him in faint amusement. As if that bet is just a little too silly to agree to, but considering who it entails that hesitation makes sense. No matter the outcome, Theseus is bound to holler loud enough to reach past the colloseum walls. 

"I'll just have to tell you after it happens, I suppose. Still, there's many more interesting things to bet on in this place." Hermes continues, not moving his hand in the slightest. 

Like this, the two gods are content to remain until Zagreus steps into the chamber, slightly bloodied but mostly fine. 

"Oh, Hermes! Wasn't expecting to find you here." Zagreus says, pleasantly surprised. 

"Good to see you in person for once, coz!" Hermes replies, grinning. "Still got all your death defiances?" 

"I'm long past the point where I lose them down in Asphodel, which makes not getting beaten down by a certain champion much easier." Zagreus replies, studying the three options on offer with much the same scrutiny that he always does, considering the pros and cons of each one before making his choice. This time, he can sadly only afford one item, so he chooses the Hammer. 

"Excellent choice! Couldn't have done it better myself." Hermes muses, and takes the requisite obols from Zagreus as if it's the most natural thing in the world before passing them on to Charon. "In any case, you'll be seeing me a fair bit more around here from now on, and I'll keep to the same strict pricing as my dear associate." 

"At least you're not driving up the prices. Not unless I pull up the Pact, anyway." Zagreus replies, very much taking the change in stride. 

While the two speak, Charon takes to counting the obols. It's a soothing repetition, one that's perfectly suitable for wearing down the last lingering bit of frustration that still hangs on after Theseus' loud entrance. And, by the time he finishes doing so, Zagreus is already on his way out with a promise to not die at the hands of the most obnoxious man in Elysium. 

"Reckon he'll send Hades floating back to the House soon enough, boss?" Hermes asks, turning his attention away from the shop at large to focus on his partner. 

Charon nods, seeing no reason to doubt that fact. As of late, Zagreus has improved in the cramped chambers in the Temple, so there's no reason to assume that he hasn't also gotten used to the way his father fights. 

"Do you think he still beats Skelly into the ground these days?" Hermes then asks, changing the subject somewhat. 

Once again, Charon nods, having heard as much from the skeleton's last activity report. It's not quite as often these days, but with enough frequency to say that the prince is still giving Skelly ample opportunity to work as he's supposed to.

"Wow, really? Here I thought he was reduced to a standing ornament." Hermes replies, blinking. "Then again, Zagreus isn't so cruel as to leave him without anything to do." 

Charon snorts just a bit, counting up the last of the obols before starting on what must be done before they head up to the Temple of Styx. Most of the wares there are locked up in a side chamber, which means less of his stock has to be moved between Elysium and there. 

It makes for a less cumbersome trip, and by the time they arrive at the docks, Zagreus is giving Cerberus some well-deserved pets. There is also a neat pile of Obols left by each of the pedestals, as if to replace the items the prince has had the good courtesy to pay for before taking. 

Charon swiftly counts them and meets Zagreus' anxious look with a firm nod. This arrangement, while impromptu and more than a little strange compared to the normal routine, can work. As much as he would rather oversee this particular shop directly he'd be a fool to not take this chance to ease his burden a little. 

It may not be strictly necessary right now, but it will be in time, and it's better to establish the habit now so he won't forget it later. There's also the matter of more direct deliveries, such as Eurydice's cooking ingredients. That could theoretically be left in the hands of a competent shade, but those Charon are willing to trust such a task to are few and far between. 

Still, he does voice these things to Hermes, once Cerberus has left and Zagreus has gone to face his father once more. 

"How about you update Skelly's contract? He can take over the deliveries through Asphodel whenever Zagreus isn't busy pummeling him to dust, and you'll have one less thing to worry about." Hermes suggests, finding no harm in the prospect of getting the skeleton under more direct orders beyond just standing around. 

Charon gives a considering groan at that, filing it away as a possible solution for later. Still, there's more important things to see to, and for that to happen, Hermes can't linger for much longer. The dead still need to be brought down to the House, after all. 

Hermes knows this too, and sighs when Charon gives him a stern look from under the brim of his hat. 

"I'll be back at the usual time, with what I hope will be the usual amount of shades. Ares has been antsy as of late, and I'd really rather not have to deal with pulling the same hordes of shades as last time there was a war up there." he says, giving his beloved a quick kiss good-bye before heading out of the Temple, surely dodging past the fight taking place right outside.

Charon says nothing as he watches him go, and sighs as he prepares for his next stretch of work. 

**Author's Note:**

> As this is my first true foray into multi-chapter fic, i've no idea how it's going to turn out! I hope you'll enjoy the ride nonetheless, thanks for reading!


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